"ears to the dark wood, we played ruin."
More Perihelion:
Bob Sward's Writer's Friendship Series
thinly under
I was afraid how it might dawn again
& to talk nervous, “some nice girl used to
but amazement wouldn’t fit inside
ears to the dark wood, we played ruin
hearing long past orange trees & street maps
the flesh as augury & all we swiftly –
pulse. thinly under skin & star
– blue night (put there by) ( )
as if a bird were held
early riser
getting rid clears my head
I fall asleep, past roots and all, to sounds, which drag
my little streams puff & shiver|
cover me, my spinner’s bird.
“buzzards were drying themselves down there
they leave a place empty I belong to”
early riser, you’re all wet & glued to my face
“they leave a miserable bed on the inside”
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